Midoriya's Magic Shop
by RebelzHeart
Summary: Todoroki goes to a shop to try and get his fire magic removed and falls in love with Midoriya along the way. Connected drabbles in a Witch AU
1. Chapter 1

The shop is small but it will do, Todoroki thinks as he pushes open the door to enter. A little bell tinkles his welcome and he blinks at the red ribbon tied on top of it. Not many witches would so blatantly use such urban magic, knowing that most look down upon those that use the modern ways.

He moves slowly inside, and it only takes him a moment to realize that a gigantification spell has been used on it's interior. Not particularly rare, given the spell's popularity among witches, but the amount that the shop's size has been grown... he looks around and ah, yes, there it is, traditional runes painted in blue, the color of the ocean and sky (the widest expanse there is).

But Todoroki isn't here to browse, so he moves quickly, his cursed hand tucked into his pocket and a glove on his blessed hand, put on with care so that his touch doesn't freeze anything.

He stands in the curse undoing section for a long time, browsing through purifying feathers and containment marbles before he is about to give up.

He frowns a bit.

He had hoped to find a good talisman and get it over with, but he should know better.

Thankfully, on his way out, Todoroki finds a tablet saying _personalized spells at the front_ hanging from the window.

The boy at the counter has a slight frame, a green vest and simple white button down. He hasn't the mark on his temple revealing him as a witch, so Todoroki is surprised when he asks after the shop's witch and the boy smiles, "Oh, that's me!"

Todoroki blinks a bit, dumbfounded, and the boy sticks out a hand and introduces himself as _Midoriya Izuku, but you can just call me Midoriya_.

"Todoroki," He shakes Midoriya's hand with his gloved one and pulls out his other, "I have a cursed arm, and I was hoping that you could help me get rid of it?"

"I hope you don't mean by amputation," Midoriya's light smile is enough to show that he's joking and Todoroki holds out his cursed arm. Midoriya examines it with narrow eyes, "Hm... orange runes? Rare, that someone would take the time to do it so delicately, and to have it hand painted like this makes it very powerful but guessing from the residue left, it must have been there since a young age, possibly just a little before birth, meaning that someone would have had to pre-plan and..."

He mumbles a bit more, effectively guessing and running through all the options, before Midoriya leans back and shakes his head.

Todoroki's heart sinks.

"I'm sorry, Todoroki-san," Midoriya's voice is soft, apologetic, "I can't help you get rid of it."

Frustration bubbles up in Todoroki's chest, "Then there must be _someone_ who can," he says desperately, "Can you refer me to another witch?"

Midoriya's eyes are cool, dark, "Your arm isn't cursed, Todoroki-san, it's _blessed_."

" _No_ ," Todoroki shakes his head, "My hand sets everything that I touch on fire."

"We can alter that slightly," Midoriya dips his head, "But it's a blessing."

"I don't want this blessing," Todoroki grits his teeth, "Can you get rid of blessings?"

Midoriya sighs at him and nods at his other arm, "There should be a water based blessing on that arm, to balance the two."

"There is, but," Todoroki shakes his head, "I don't want this."

"I can't get rid of it, then," Midoriya's frown is telling, and Todoroki wants to get rid of it somehow, "You always need a balance." He taps the side of his head, "You're a witch, so you, of all people, should know. Elemental magic is powerful, but that makes it dangerous. Everyone knows the tale of the fire witch from Ennan who burned from inside out."

"I can handle it," Todoroki shakes his head, stubborn.

"You can't," Midoriya's gaze hardens, "Let me see your other arm."

Reluctantly, Todoroki pulls off his glove and rolls up his sleeve so that Midoriya can see the pastel blue runes written on his right arm. Midoriya's fingers trace the curl of the rune over his wrist and the stocky block of the band at the base of his knuckles to ensure that the magic doesn't escape and infect anything, and then Midoriya shakes his head.

"Your magic is perfectly balanced. If you get rid of one, the other will consume you."

"I don't care!" Todoroki's voice is desperate, pleading now, "I don't _need_ my fire!"

"Everyone needs fire," Midoriya puts a seed on the counter and holds out his finger. It turns green and he paints out familiar earthen runes, then he paints the figures for _sun, brook, breath_ around in a circle. The rune lowers to the seed and a sapling sprouts out, curling and a soft pink flower blooming from the side. "This plant needs sun to grow, yes? It needs to be watered, and takes in oxygen to survive. It plants it's root in soil, and because it has all four elements, it survives."

Todoroki's heart pounds in his chest, "I am not a plant," he says.

"But you are alive," Midoriya claps his hands together and the plant turns to rune, the pink flower curling into golden ink for _sun_ , leaves melting into _breath_ and the rest of it dissolving into runes before it is simply a seed again, "And all living things need balance."

"I will be more balanced without the fire," Todoroki knows that he's fighting an empty battle but he tries anyway.

Midoriya glares at him, "The only way to destroy that arm is through dark magic, and the results will kill you."

Todoroki lowers his head, jaw set in irritation, "Then what do I do?" He demands.

"You accept it," Midoriya pushes a hand against his chest, eyes blazing, "Your fire is a part of you. I don't know why you dislike it, but whatever fire has done in the past, whoever gave you that rune, it does not matter. Magic has no past, only a present, and right now, that fire belongs to you and you alone. No other mana can be fed to it, and you are the one who chooses to use it so _choose it_."

"It _destroys_ everything that I touch!" Todoroki yells.

"Because you won't accept it!" Midoriya yells back, "Because you suppress it, as though magic can be suppressed! You hold it back as though it's a _dog_ , some _pet_ , instead of a living, breathing part of you!"

"Then what do I _do_?" Todoroki breathes, chest heaving, breath ragged.

Midoriya sighs, "Then you let it be."

"It will turn everything to fire," Todoroki shakes his head, "It will burn your shop down."

"Don't be over dramatic," Midoriya snorts, leans over, and brushes his fingers against Todoroki's wrist, "You see this band here? It's an ending rune, and if I'm correct, you have one on your bicep as well. Ending runes are especially important because they do the job of containing magic, and yours seals your fire within. My guess is..."

Midoriya rambles a bit, babbling on and pointing to each rune and explaining their purpose. He takes over an hour to talk, occasionally stopping and asking Todoroki if this is alright. _It is_ , Todoroki says each time, awed and humbled by the shopkeeper's knowledge.

At the end, Todoroki doesn't quite understand it as much as Midoriya does, but he understands that the magic is his and it is safe and good and none of it belongs to Endeavor.

"I accept it," Todoroki breathes, and the end, eyes closed and head bowed to Midoriya, "Thank you."

Midoriya smiles, "Then activate it."

Todoroki does, and the runes burn, fire licking each but not spreading, glowing bright and powerful and strong, the entire shop illuminated in sunset gold before it dies down, and the runes are normal again.

He gives his thanks to Midoriya once again, and Midoriya smiles back.

"Since you're, um, still in training," Midoriya gestures at the mark on Todoroki's temple, half done, the sign of a witch-in-training, "My shop has, ah, books and talismans. If you want to, ah, shop here, I mean."

"Trying to drum up more business?" Todoroki teases, trying to banish the memory of Midoriya looking stunning as he summons his magic and paints runes on the seed.

Midoriya turns red and stammers a few things before he calms and fiddles with his sleeves, "It would be nice to see you again," he admits, voice soft, "Balanced. Not just because you're balanced, I mean. You're more than your magic. Obviously. It would just be relieving, since it's healthier. Because I want to see you healthy. Not just you, I mean, I like seeing people healthy in general. But it's not that I don't like you! I mean, I don't really know you. But I'm sure that you're a great person!"

Todoroki lets Midoriya babble a bit more, and when he stops to take a breath, Todoroki says, "I'll see you again, then, when I come back to buy something."

Midoriya's eyes are wide, surprised for a moment before he beams back, bright and eager, "I'll see you then!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I need, um, a..." Todoroki looks helplessly at his work sheet, "An archer's bow that gives people... good luck...? Do you..." He looks almost desperately at Midoriya, "Please tell me you have that."

"An _archer's bow_?" Midoriya repeats incredulously, brow furrowing as he tries to think about it, "That's odd. Are you _sure_ your homework was to learn how to use an archer's bow that gives people good luck?"

"I don't, it's not," Todoroki shakes his head helplessly and all but shoves his paper at Midoriya, "I'm confused."

Midoriya scans the paper, lips pursed and brow furrowed before his eyes light up and he laughs, "A politeness _bow_!"

"...a bow?" Todoroki echoes uneasily, "Isn't that it?"

"It's not an archer's bow," Midoriya laughs, "It's a spell so that when you bow," he pauses and bends over, demonstrating the type of bow that he means, "You give good luck to the person you're bowing to. It's a customary greeting in witch circles, considered good etiquette."

"Oh, I see," Todoroki flushes, embarrassed at his mistake, "I apologize. I'll just... go... um..." he makes vague hand gestures at the door, clearly waiting for Midoriya to hand over the paper and send him on his merry way.

Midoriya, though, squints at the paper.

"It's _homework_?" He clarifies.

"Yes," Todoroki squirms as he realizes that Midoriya is not just handing him back his sheet of paper any time soon, "I'm supposed to learn how to do it by Friday."

"And it's Wednesday," Midoriya hums a light focus enhancing spell in the back of his throat. Todoroki recognizes it as one that Momo uses sometimes when they're studying together over Skype, both knowing each other and using the same online course to learn witchcraft. "Ah, I see. You're home schooled," he smiles at Todoroki, "I can help you learn, if you want. Then you don't have to look through all the big books to try and figure it out yourself."

Todoroki tries not to sag in relief, but it's a near thing, "You would?" he asks, relieved.

"Of course!" Midoriya beams, and suddenly, seeming to remember himself, flushes, "Only if you want, of course."

"I would be incredibly grateful," Todoroki reassures him quickly, and hopes he doesn't sound too desperate. "I'm still in training, after all, and you're already a licensed witch, right? But then again, you _are_ a specialist..."

Midoriya freezes, eyes widening, "How did you know that I was a specialist?" He asked, eyes wide.

"Ah..." Todoroki blinks a bit, "Your mark. It's not on your temple, which means it must be somewhere else, right? That means you're a specialist, I think?"

"Oh, right," Midoriya nods, "Specialists have to know the basics, though. Like how you have to get through high school before pursuing post-secondary education."

"I see," Todoroki hums, "What do you specialize in?"

Midoriya stills a bit, and then taps his fingers against the counter, "Oh, nothing interesting," he answers lightly, a poor attempt at deflecting, but it says enough that Todoroki understands not to prod. "Do you plan on becoming a specialist?"

"I don't know," Todoroki clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth, "I've heard the process is really painful, since your magic passageways are physically altered, right?"

"That's true," Midoriya dips his head into a nod, "But you get to do some really precise things that _Jaques_ witches can't do. To know a magic intimately, to have it in your every movement, every breath..." his fingers trace the air and there's the telltale smell of charcoal and ash before the air sparks at his fingertips for a moment and bleeds into a misty blue lion, then it dissolves, "If you want to pursue a life of magic, I think you can't be a _Jaques_."

"Jack of all trades, master of none," Todoroki murmurs, referring to the phrase from which the term _Jaques witch_ originated.

Midoriya flashes him a light smile, "Yeah. Of course you can take your time as you want. And specializing doesn't mean you can't do other forms of magic, of course. Some witches specialize in many forms. I've even heard of one that specialized in _three_ forms of magic, it was amazing to hear about someone with such dedication."

"It sounds amazing, to specialize," Todoroki thinks wistfully.

"It is," Midoriya smiles softly as well, and then starts a bit, "But we can think about that later. You're still learning the basics of etiquette, we can't delve too deep yet, right?"

"Right," Todoroki agrees, turning a bit red, "Thank you for helping me out, Midoriya-kun."

"No problem," Midoriya hums, "So, this spell is extremely different from rune magic because it's more fate aligned. The most simple comparison I can make is with red magic, since red typically deals with fate, though this shouldn't be mistaken with orange, which obviously is fire..."

* * *

There is the distinct smell of pine in the air, _healing, positivity and renewal_ , Todoroki thinks, mind instantly jumping to his most recent lessons on the usage of natural herbs in witchcraft.

"Testing a new spell?" He asks, making his way through to the back of the shop.

"Hm?" There's a yelp, and then Midoriya appears, head popping up from behind a shelf full of crystal balls, "Oh, hi, Todoroki-kun! Sorry, no, not testing something new. A friend came by with a bag of pine seeds and I thought that it might be nice to use it in the shop's barriers."

Todoroki blinks, "The shop has barriers?"

He's heard about witch shops having barriers, but he's never really _heard_ of it.

"Yes, of course," Midoriya smiles at him, quirky and nervous, "Nothing very strong, of course. Just little things to try and keep away those with ill intentions and the such. Some witches with less resources tend to break into unprotected shops to try and steal their supplies," he sighs, "Bad for business."

"Of course," Todoroki rubs his nose, "Does it keep out all black magic?"

"Oh no," Midoriya blinks, "I mean, some people are cursed, yeah? So I can't do that. And if I only sold to witches with pure hearts, I'd never get any business. I just try to keep out the really obviously dangerous ones, that's all."

"Isn't that illegal?" Todoroki shifts uneasily, "I mean, psychic spells were outlawed in the _Graihynk_ Convention of '87, right?"

Midoriya purses his lips together, "It's not exactly psychic," he answered, wiggling his fingers, "It's, like, it detects intent and whether it's dark or not?"

"Okay," Todoroki says doubtfully, but he doesn't press the matter because Midoriya is the type that would probably melt in self-guilt and burst into tears if he were suspected of breaking the law. "What's the pine for?"

"Healing and positivity," Midoriya hums.

"How does that help?" Todoroki furrows his eyebrows. "Doesn't seem to protect your shop."

"Not really, but," Midoriya's fingers dance in the air, and the seeds seem to melt into the wall. Green curls, almost like they're being painted by an invisible hand, appear on the walls, and then they melt into the runes, little green lines scattered about like pine needles have just been scattered across and absorbed by the wall. "It's always nice to have a little positivity, yeah? Especially when you're sitting all alone in a shop for most of the day."

"Oh," Todoroki feels a stab of guilt, though he isn't quite sure why, "Does it make you feel lonely?"

Midoriya offers Todoroki a soft, kind smile, as though he understands Todoroki's intentions.

(Which is odd, because Todoroki isn't sure he understands them fully himself.)

"It's fine," he shakes his head and stands up, brushing imaginary dust from his legs, "I get to learn a lot in the time that I have to myself. And I have friends that come by, so I'm not too much at loss for company."

"Oh," Todoroki murmurs. For some odd reason, he feels a swell of something almost akin to disappointment.

Midoriya, sensing this, laughs a bit and bumps his shoulder against Todoroki's, "You're one of my friends, right?"

It's almost sad, Todoroki thinks to himself, how quickly he lights up and beams at Midoriya, "I'm grateful to be friends with you," he says.

"Aw," Midoriya rubs the back of his neck, a bit red, "That's so sweet of you to say."

"It's the truth," Todoroki answers earnestly.

Midoriya's grin is wide if a tad abashed, "I'm grateful to be friends with you, too."

They both turn red and turn away from each other a bit, before Todoroki laughs awkwardly, "So, I, um, want to learn about using elemental basics today?"

"Yes, of course!" Midoriya scrambles up, "So, ah, let's start with water, since you seem to know the most about it..."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So, this fic is going to be more a bunch of drabbles in the same universe than anything plot heavy or consistent.

* * *

"Find anything today?" Aizawa doesn't look up as Hizashi drops into the room, heavy yellow cloak dropping from his shoulders before he hangs it onto the coat rack.

"When do I ever?" Hizashi sighed, straightening his back and stretching his arms until his shoulders gave a satisfying _pop_. "It's fine. The curse only really activates when I scream and shout anyway, so it works best as a defense mechanism."

Aizawa frowns at Hizashi from his spot on their carpet, hovering a few feet in the air.

(Aizawa had been fond of brooms before he fell asleep on one, sixty feet in the air, and had only survived the fall thanks to Hizashi's quick levitation spell. Carpets, working on crystals, didn't require the constant feed of magic like brooms did and being larger, Aizawa was less likely to fall off. Hizashi still teases him about it from time to time, but knows when to rest.)

"You break all of the windows when you have nightmares," he sighs, and with a flick of his fingers the carpet lowers to the ground, the hum of the magic crystal powering down and it's pale white glow darkens to nothing.

"Sorry," Hizashi mumbles, rubbing the palm of his hand against his nose, "We could always put tape on my mouth or something."

"If silencing spells didn't work, tape probably won't either," Aizawa shakes his head, "I'm not mad about the windows. It's just a bit inconvenient, is all. You almost got stabbed with the glass when your light bulb broke over your head."

Hizashi winces at the reminder.

"And more than that," Aizawa's close enough now to reach out and touch Hizashi, thin fingers resting on his wrist (just above the dark blue chevron bracelet that they've imbued with soul bonding magic, and hanging from Aizawa's ankle is a matching yellow one), "It doesn't let you sing."

Hizashi tries to fight back the burning feeling in his throat, because he's a _witch_ , having dreams of singing on a radio show is ridiculous, witches are supposed to thrive in the dark and unknown, not become radio show hosts (even if he dreams of having a radio show for witches, of segments that teach home remedy spells and give book reviews on spell books or fantasies but it's _ridiculous_ anyway). "My career doesn't require me to sing," he shrugs, shoving down the helpless feeling building in his chest.

Aizawa just shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Hizashi, "Come on."

Hizashi links his arms around Aizawa, beaded bracelets and fate strings hanging off his arm, and Aizawa's arm is bare but for a few scribbled runes that he's inked onto his arm while he was thinking and didn't want to go search for paper.

"Let's forget about curses," he urges because there is no point on dwelling in things like that when he is perfect content in his cozy apartment living with Aizawa, "I'm feeling like cake for dinner today."

"You're ridiculous," Aizawa snorts.

Hizashi swoops down to press a kiss to the tip of Aizawa's nose and Aizawa pushes him away, laughing a bit. Satisfied, Hizashi grins and answers lightly, "You love me."

"Not because you're ridiculous," Aizawa rolls his eyes.

"You sure about that?" Hizashi pulls Aizawa into a dip, holding him over a bent knee.

Instead of standing up, Aizawa raises his eyebrows from his spot in Hizashi's arms, smirking when Hizashi's arms start to quiver. "In case you've forgotten, I weigh almost 200 pounds, and you almost never work out."

"I know, babe," Hizashi grins shakily, "Please get up before I drop you."

Aizawa hos and hums because he is evil and enjoys seeing Hizashi suffer.

"I hate you," Hizashi grumbles.

Aizawa laughs and finally stands up, rolling around smoothly and shoulders sliding up to his cheeks as he wraps his arms around Hizashi's neck and pulls him in for a chaste, quick kiss. "You love me," he corrects Hizashi.

Hizashi is utterly in love, so he probably looks like a dope, but he agrees anyway with a dreamy little sigh as though he were still 16 and crushing with puppy dog love, "I do."

Aizawa reddens a bit but doesn't snark at Hizashi, instead they go back to holding hands as Hizashi bounces into the kitchen and starts looking through the fridge, taking a moment to make sure nothing will expiring soon before he pulls out some frozen perogies and a pot.

"So how was class today?" Hizashi asks, closing the fridge door with his hip and stretching a leg to use his feet and shut the cabinet door as he moves to the sink and turns on the tap.

"Not bad," Aizawa hums a bit, two fingers on the counter beside the sink as they wait for the water to fill up the pot, "One of the teachers got hit by a student's stray spell and quit, though, so I took on two of his students while we were waiting for a replacement."

Hizashi hums thoughtfully as he closes the tap and puts the pot on the stove, turning it on before looking at Aizawa again. "Only two?" he asks, surprised.

"I expelled three of them," Aizawa admits, shrugging.

"Of course you did," Hizashi laughs, "You know who's going to replace the teacher yet?"

"Not yet," Aizawa pushes a lock behind Hizashi's ear, "We're still waiting for applicants."

"I see," Hizashi nods, "Who are your two new students?"

"Todoroki Shouta and Yaoyorozu Momo," Aizawa drums his fingers against the stove, "I've heard good things about them, and they were both very earnest in today's lesson, so I think it will be okay. They get along well with the other students, too, so that doesn't hurt."

"Sounds wonderful," The water starts to boil so Hizashi dumps in the perogies and turns the heat to medium. "What unit are you on?"

"Just the basics so far," Aizawa watches the water bubble as Hizashi pulls out a pair of chopsticks and begins to stir the perogies, "Like those handshakes that help you remember names, dust to keep your keys from disappearing, that sort of thing."

"That's useful," Hizashi hums.

Aizawa presses a finger on Hizashi's temple, tracing his witch mark there, and laughs, "It's dull is what it is. But it's important for everyday life."

"You want to start on specializations, don't you," Hizashi laughs.

Aizawa shrugs, which is answer enough.

"So impatient," Hizashi tweaks Aizawa's ear and laughs at his disgruntled expression, "You have an idea of what they'd all like?"

"Not exactly yet," Aizawa bats Hizashi's arm away, "But they're good students. I'm sure they'll do just fine. They wouldn't be in my class if they didn't know what they wanted and worked hard to get it."

"You're a wonderful teacher."

Aizawa rolls his eyes, "We're married. You have to say that."

"So mean," Hizashi pouts.

The timer beeps and he turns back to his perogies, but Hizashi doesn't miss the fond, exasperated smile that plays on Aizawa's lips right before he turns away.

* * *

"You should be asleep," Hizashi hums from his spot leaning against the doors.

They slide open easily, glass against glass, and he glances at where Aizawa is floating on the edge of the balcony, carpet rippling in the soft summer breeze. Aizawa's put his hair in a loose braid, eyes closed, lashes long against pale skin, and Hizashi idly wonders if he remembered to water all the plants and herbs that are scattered around the balcony. Probably not, Aizawa always forgets. Ah well. Hizashi will ask him later.

"Pot, kettle," Aizawa hums, a soft lullaby spell against the wind. It does nothing for either of them, the sort of magic that only works for mothers (witches rarely become mothers, but it was more common, back when Tradition still clung strong and back when magic was most powerful in song and spoken word).

"Harsh," Hizashi laughs, and pads forward, glass door sliding shut behind him.

The cement of the balcony is cold against his bare feet, but he likes it that way. Witches, he thinks, were meant to be barefoot, to be connected to the elements, not covered up in cloaks and cloth and steel toed boots that they wear by way of necessity.

"Nightmare?" Aizawa's voice is soft as the carpet opens, dipping down so that Hizashi can climb on.

Hizashi plays with the little wisps of baby hairs by Aizawa's ears, fingers curling around and over, and then asks quietly, "Can't I just decide to spend some time with you for no reason?"

 _Nightmares, then,_ he sees Aizawa decide, but Aizawa is silent, pressing a hand to Hizashi's so that his palm lays flat against Aizawa's cheek. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with that," Aizawa smiles at him, soft, sweet, and it still takes Hizashi's breath away.

"You out here for the wind?" Hizashi asks, letting the wind curl against his fingers for a moment, ruffling his sleeves, before he uses a bit of magic to playfully redirect it to Aizawa, ruffling his hair and making him huff at Hizashi's childishness.

"It's nice out, tonight," Aizawa shrugs, a life and fall of his shoulders, "Feels stronger."

Specializing in silences, Aizawa's magic is an odd contrast to Hizashi's, who hasn't specialized yet but wants to in something techy, more modern. Aizawa walks the traditional life, keeping cats as familiars despite the fact that most witches have abandoned familiars, deciding that the risk that comes with being connected like that simply isn't worth the companionship that can be found in other humans.

"Am I ruining it for you?" Hizashi asks.

"No," Aizawa answers quietly, "It's perfect, like this."

Hizashi bites down the grin threatening to take over his face, and instead pays attention to the rustle of leaves in the wind, the sound of a wind chime, the untouchable warmth of the stars. The little, inconsequential things, are where Aizawa draws his power from, and Hizashi has learned to love that. "How cute," he coos.

Aizawa turns red but doesn't shove him off of the carpet to his doom, so Hizashi thinks that he's doing all right. "Why are _you_ out here?" Aizawa turns Hizashi's question back to him, trying to make Hizashi forget his moment of sappiness.

Ha.

He's got another thing coming.

"I came for you, of course," Hizashi grins, carding his fingers into Aizawa's, knuckles and callouses and little scars from backfired spells.

Maybe Aizawa is tired, or maybe he just doesn't feel up to pretenses tonight, because instead of calling Hizashi sappy or corny, he smiles back and leans forward to kiss Hizashi, and Hizashi agrees, it's perfect, like this.

* * *

They are in a bar and Hizashi is a little drunk, fingers curling into Aizawa's as he mumbles, "I love you so much, you don't even understand," and Aizawa laughs as he pushes away sloppy kisses.

They are outside before Hizashi knows it, him not blackout drunk but just enough that he has absolutely no filter for... anything really... and Aizawa is sober because he's badass and weird like that and they are passing an ally and there is a girl and a gang and Hizashi may be drunk but he can see where this is going.

There's laughter and ringing and sloppy kisses and Aizawa has his hands out in a familiar stance that Hizashi hasn't seen but remembers clear as day and there's a yelp as a boy lifts in the air and slams against a wall.

"Shouta," Hizashi says softly, fingers ghosting over Aizawa's arms.

"Stay here, Hizashi," Aizawa answers quietly, voice barely a whisper before he leaps forward and his fist slams into the nearest gang member, and Hizashi pulls out his phone to call the police, muscles moving in a half-forgotten memory.

He had never enjoyed using magic for ranged magic, and Hizashi still remembers when they were young and when he was training, finding Aizawa in alleys with blood on his knuckles and split skin and a wand tucked behind an ear, half forgotten, as though Aizawa could never recall that magic could be used in battle.

( _It's dirty_ , Aizawa says as Hizashi disinfects his hands, _using magic for something like fighting._ Hizashi says nothing. He is proud for Aizawa's honor, but he cannot agree because of the black eye that Aizawa sports with pride.)

Aizawa is, as always, graceful, punching, dropping, and leg shooting out to kick the legs out from under these inexperienced children in one fluid motion, elegant and practiced, and the girl watches with stunned, wide eyes as Aizawa finally finishes with the gang and, with two quick arm movements, takes away just enough energy that they fall unconscious.

"Police?" Aizawa turns, and Hizashi snaps his fingers twice, nods, and Aizawa's shoulders slump as he turns back to the girl. "You alright?"

The girl nods, and Hizashi sees with no small relief that she's still fully dressed, looking fine aside from a quickly growing bruise on her cheek. "Grats," she whispers, voice soft and tinkling like a bell, and _ah, Fae_.

Hizashi hesitates.

He's fairly sure it wasn't, but... "You weren't planning on doing anything with these boys, were you?" he asks quietly.

The girl's eyes flash, irritated for a moment (the Fae were always proud), before she answers haughtily, "I use urban magic."

Aizawa raises his eyebrows, "What were you doing here?"

The girl flushes and takes off her headphones, letting long ears dangle out as she mumbles, wiping away foundation to reveal red marks on her cheeks, "Was here for a band performance. I stepped out for some fresh air after we finished and..." Her jaw locks, "Wouldn't have happened if I had my wand."

Aizawa nods, "Remember to keep it on you next time."

"Gave it to a friend," She runs a hand through her hair, "Anyway, I owe you now."

Aizawa sighs, but doesn't argue. Fae, even the more modern ones, are sticklers for Tradition. "Try to keep your wand with you. Maybe keep a spare, next time."

She nods and snaps her fingers. A black and white business card appears and she slips it into Aizawa's hands, "You can call me Jirou," she says lightly, knowing better than to give her first name. "Grats for the save."

"Thank you for the favor," Aizawa answers politely.

She grins at him before straightening her jacket ( _leather,_ Hizashi notes, probably can handle herself just fine with a wand in hand, which makes sense, not many learn to fight when they can use magic) and sauntering off..

"Look at you, being a hero," Hizashi teases Aizawa, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

"Look at you, still drunk," Aizawa grumbles, but doesn't push Hizashi away.

"Home?" Hizashi asks, leaning over to kiss Aizawa on the cheek.

Aizawa hums, which from him is a _yes_ , and they go home, hand in hand, and Hizashi can forget about fights in alleys and curses silencing screams because he thinks it's all okay right now.


End file.
